Infinite Excellence Is Thine

Infinite ex­cel­lence Is Thine

Thou love­ly Prince of grace!

Thy un­cre­at­ed beau­ties shine

With nev­er-fad­ing rays.

Sinners from earth’s re­mot­est end

Come bend­ing at Thy feet;

To Thee their pray­ers and vows as­cend;

In Thee their wish­es meet.

Thy name as pre­cious oint­ment shed

Delights the Church around;

Sweetly the sac­red odor spreads

Through all Im­ma­nu­el’s ground.

Millions of hap­py spir­its live

On Thy ex­haust­less store;

From Thee they all their bliss re­ceive

And still Thou giv­est more.

Thou are their tri­umph and their joy

They find their all in Thee;

Thy glo­ries will their tongues em­ploy

To all eter­ni­ty.